


Caught just in time.

by VatraOzo



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Fanfiction, My First Fanfic, Please Don't Hate Me, drugged, first, my
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VatraOzo/pseuds/VatraOzo
Summary: The first chapter will have places where you wonder what tf is going on, and I WILL get there in other chapters. Cliffhanges, and all that jazz.But I'll start the summary now.Summary: Reader finds herself confused in where she stand in one man's life. One where she's pushed, and tugged back. Being loved, and torn apart. This is her last stand. Will he catch her in time?





	1. The beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> THE WALKING DEAD DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. ALL CREDITS GO TO THE ORIGINAL OWNERS!!!!!!!!

“I don’t even know you anymore!” your voice betrayed you, making you croak it out like a frog. You were about to raise your arm to slap him, but you just pushed him as hard as you could. The feeling in your chest felt like it was squeezing you down, weighing you like an anchor. This fucking asshole had to go to his lowest point, and hurt you.

“I guess you didn’t know me at all sweetheart,” he turned to face you after he was shoved, his eyes showed no emotions, and his steady shoulders shrugged up, and back down. Like he knew all along. He smiled as if this was his goal. To break you down to nothing.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you grabbed your clothes from the fallen love seat that you became to love. Putting your clothes back on, your movements were followed as you picked up some of your belongings, and stuffed them in your bag. Not giving him the satisfaction of your broken heart, not going to yell on top of my lungs on why everything is falling apart.

“Good fucking bye you asshole,” You mutter as you pass him, tears falling down rapidly. You twisted the doorknob before opening it, you didn’t want to look back as you left. Because it’ll just eat you away with remembering what a waste of your time was. You walked faster down the long ass hallway, before making a turn to the right, where stairs, and an elevator that sit among the floor. You decide to take the stairs, not wanting to stand, and think over everything.

“Fucking bullshit, I hope he rots,” You mumble as you finish the set of stairs. Making your way out of the building, and cross the street to your dark red truck. Tossing a glance up the road, you see a woman walking down the sidewalk you just left, a long silk black dress hugged her every curve, and a fur coat to wrap around her elegant shoulders. Her hair was a magnificent red, and from where you stood, you can tell she had emerald green eyes. Your eyes widened when the so-called man of your life walks out the entrance door, holding it open for the woman that can outnumber you with her looks. He was expecting you to leave before that beautiful woman could see you. He had to take matters into his own hands. Even if it broke the both of them. 

You opened your driver’s door, and hopped in. Grabbing the Marlboro pack from the cup holder, plucking a cancer stick from it, and lit it. The truck roared alive, making a pretty nice hum for your taste. 

Ping!

Damnit, you hope it’s not that sick fuck. You clutched your phone in your hands, and turned it off. Not caring who the fuck it was, and you looked for other vehicles before taking off. You didn’t stare back, because that shit would have hurt. You should head home, and shower, maybe cry in there. You have work this evening, so you might as well. 

The apartment building you lived in was four stories high, it had a green house on top, which is pretty neat. You park along the sidewalk, before grabbing your bag, smokes, and your father’s leather jack—FUCK! You must’ve left it at that godforsaken place. You’ll just call him, and ask if it’s there. You swear you're not going there unless it’s for the jacket. 

You lived on the fourth floor, which was cliché, because you always wanted to be near a green house, to be able to sit in one, and enjoy the view of different kinds of plants. You should probably check on it as well, after work would be perfect.

“Hey y/n!” a small voice squealed as you got out of your truck, feeling little arms wrap around your waist. This little boy was named Jay, he was such a sweet kid, and he’s a real smart, kind, and a really positive kid. 

“Oh hey there Jay, what are you doing?” You asked while waiting for the little guy to let go. When he did, you both walked towards the entryway to the apartment. 

“I was playing in the back, but I heard your truck so I ran over here! And my mom is cleaning our place, so I have to keep busy while she does!” He answered your question as good as he could. He was so smart for his age, you couldn’t be happier for his parents raising such a good kid like him. 

“Well, I’m going to my place, so you should go back, and play Jay,” You say, going down on one knee to give him a hug. 

“Okay, see you later y/n!” Jay ran around the corner of the apartment building, and going to the back. You smiled, and went on my way to my place. It’s such a relief that you didn’t say those words. You were really going to say those stupid words to that stupid guy. It aches so much right now, you never realized it was there, hanging from your chest, and feeling the weight pull you down.

Entering your apartment after climbing sets of stairs, it exhausted you that you ended up just unlocking the door, then locking it, and finally flopping on your bed. Your shoes, and attire was left untouched, too tired to do anything. Reality kicked in. You have to shower, and get to work. Lifting yourself up from the comfort of safety, and dragging your form towards the bathroom.

Did you mention the layout of your place? You don’t think so… When walking into your place, there’s a closet on your right, and a hallway that’s right in front of you, it leads to the kitchen, and dining area on the left side of the hallway. On the right going down, leads three doors, two are bedrooms, and the other was a bathroom. There was a laundry room in the middle of the apartment complex. So you didn't worry much on wear you cleaned your clothes, or had to buy your own washer, and dryer. 

You walk down the hall to the bathroom, getting the shower ready, and walking back to your room to grab your phone, and a speaker. Steam started to form as you turned your phone on, and waited it for the screen to flash on. You swept your thumb on the screen to unlock it, and a few unread messaged appeared. Two from your fellow university lecture pal, and one from that bastard. The speaker turned on with a click, and you connected it to your phone. Going through the playlist of many genres, going from metal, to soft melodies, rap, etc... 

They weren’t that bad either, they just bring back memories. Deciding on “Hips don’t lie” by Shakira, you turned the song up, before undressing to the nude. The water would feel like lava to anyone else, but to you, it felt amazing to stand there, and feel the pressure of hot water releasing the sore muscles that weigh you down at times. You washed your hair to the rhythm of the song, singing to parts of it. Rinsing the soap off, you continued your routine in the shower. Once you got out, you wrapped your form in a fluffy towel that hugged your wet frame, and wrapped a smaller towel around your hair. Walking back to your room, and headed to the closet. There was no door hiding the article of clothing that hung there, so you grabbed a black V-neck t-shirt, dark gray joggers, and black bra, and underwear. 

Walking back to the bathroom, you unwrapped the towel around your body, and started putting your clothes on after you dried yourself off. Where you worked wasn’t all ideal, it’s a decent bar where the bartender made every drink perfect, and servers could dress how the wanted. You didn’t have to wear skimpy revealing clothes, or entertain the customers. So, it was a job you could get along with no intentions of getting hurt, because the bodyguards were also there to stop any riff-raff. 

Finally dressed, you walked to the kitchen to make a sandwich, grabbing the necessities to build your famous sandwich. Finishing your masterpiece, you left to your room to put on some light makeup. Sometimes you never put some on, but tonight made you feel outgoing. All that anger just made a wall of confidence. You wanted to forget everything about that man.

Ping! Ping!

Your cellphone beeped from the bathroom. You wondered who would double text, knowing full well that bastard wouldn’t go to that length to get your attention anymore. He used too. Ugh, you're done your makeup anyways. Guess you'll go get it, eat your masterpiece, and head off to work early. Leaving your safe zone, you went to grab your phone, and cruise to plop yourself at the table. 

5:43  
Becky Howard  
Message: Hey y/n, I was wondering if you were working tonight.

5:48  
Becky Howard  
Message: Oh wait, nvm, you told me you work on Fridays! My bad, I’ll see you there!

Your eyes looked at the time, and it was hitting 6:10. You didn’t reply because there was no point. Switching back to read the bastards message, before you could even tap on it, there was a loud knocks coming from your door. You place your phone on the table, and went to answer it. Grabbing the latch, you twisted the doorknob, and opened the door. Your eyes widen, and you close the door quickly, and lock it. Your heart starts to quicken, and your hands appear to be shaking.

“Oh c’mon! This isn’t how treat your fucking lover,” the deep gravel voice says, you let those words sink in before even responding. He started to knock again, but in the little tune you learned to know it was him. Gathering up courage, and maybe flick that wall of confidence back up. You moved to unlock the door, opening the door to reveal a tall structure. 

“Negan, I'll be needing my jacket back now, and you're not my lover,” You spotted it as you opened the door, and it hugged his body in every way. Although it matched him, that didn’t belong to him, it’ll never belong on him. 

“Oh you break my heart saying that baby, we didn't even talk this shit out. Anyways, you can have the jacket alright, you just have to fucking take it off for me darling,” he grinned, inching closer to you, but you stood still, just looking at him. 

“Your heart? Pfft, fuck off with that shit. Can you just give it to me the damn jacket? I need to get to work,” you bit back, a fearless feeling overpowering you.

“Well, aren’t you a little feisty lion,” he barked back, he slid off your fathers jacket, and tossed to you before stepping back.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” I matched back, not wanting to lose those little word games he loves. He wants to be in control at all times, but with your attitude this evening, you weren’t going to let him control you anymore. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted a ride, but we both know you would jump at opportunity to ride something else,” his smug face pushed your buttons, making you angry, and you slapped your fathers jacket on, and closed the door in his face. You locked the door, and headed to the kitchen to grab your phone from the table, before getting socks on, and your converses. 

“Fuck you Negan, I’d rather ride somebody else than settle my ass on that dick,” You say, unlocking the door to look him in his hazel eyes. Whenever we started to argue, and get angry with each other, the emerald color shines brighter than the brown hues. 

“No-fucking-body couldn’t give half of what I give to you, ain't nobody out there can make you fall into pieces,” his menacing stance got bolder, making you hesitate with what you were going to say next.

“Oh yeah? If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t say that,” you mumble, closing your door, and locking it. 

“You better not have fucked around with anyone y/n,” you can literally feel the anger oozing from him, the way his eyes shined, and the way his body tensed up made the bottom of your stomach ache.

“I have better things to do right now Negan, besides I could never cheat on your dumbass” You glared at him, not wanting to be near this time-bomb. You couldn’t believe he would think you would cheat, you weren't like him. You walked around him, and made your way towards the staircase. You can feel those eyes on your form as you went down the stairs. You mentioned Rick, and he was your boss. He’s a married father, and is also pretty fucking handsome as Negan would be.

You made your exit as quick as possible, jogging to your truck, and got in after you unlocked it. Starting up the beautiful beast, you drove all the way to work. You didn’t give any chances to Negan. You weren’t going to talk with him over something you can obviously tell. He didn’t love you, or someone more gorgeous than you wouldn’t be his first priority.

“I really hope Simon can get to him, he can keep Negan out of my hair,” You mumble to yourself, pulling up behind the bar you worked at. You’ve been friends with Rick since you were little, made promises to protect you no matter what. Even what happened with our old friend, we both protected each other, and now that you gave up on your schooling, Rick gave you an opportunity to work at his bar. You pulled your phone out, dialed Simon’s number, and raised it to your ear, waiting for his voice.

“Hello wildfire, I can’t help at all dear y/n, and yes, he did call,” Simon said as soon as he was connected, you groaned in despair. 

“It was worth a try Sy-man,” You gave him that nickname one time whilst drinking with Negan. Simon chuckled before saying his farewells, and hung up. Judging from that call, you guess you’ll have to face him whether you like it or not. 

You hopped out of your beast, and headed inside from the back entrance for staff. It was dim lit, with a long counter that had alcohol lining on the walls behind it, and sitting stools on your far left. The men, and women bathrooms were to your right, and a hall that led to your boss’s slightly large office. One of your co-workers sat on one of the bar stools, scrolling through his phone, you slowly walked behind him, and yelled to scare him. Which was priceless, because he fell right on his ass.

“Oh man, Glenn, aren’t you one to scare so easily,” you teased softly, heading to your boss’s office.

“Shut up y/n, I didn’t know you came in, so up yours!” Glenn chuckled a bit, climbing back into his chair, before continuing his rampage scrolling. Smiling down at the ground, you happen to hear steps coming towards you. Looking up to see Rick adventuring the way you just came from.

“I’m going to drop my stuff off into your office Ricky!” you told Rick as he passed you, still staring at him, waiting for his small approval. Even if it sounded more like statement then a question, you always waited for him to confirm what you ask. 

“Go right ahead darling, I’m just going to call someone real quick,” he semi-shouted. Not questioning further, the office door was open, so you went in, and set your bag on the side of the desk. Leaving the space to get behind the bar counter.

“Hey Glenn, did Abe say he was coming in?” Rick looked at the Korean sitting hunched over his phone.

“Yeah, he’s coming in,” his short response made you giggle, because you knew who he was so indulged in. 

“Y/n, why are you here so early?” Rick looked at you, as you placed a three shot glasses down on the counter, and turned to grab the vodka. Pouring the liquid in the glasses, you placed on in front of Korean boy, one for Rick, and lastly taking hold of the last one in front of you. All three of you took them, and slapped the glasses back on the counter.

“I had nothing else to do, I was bored,” You laughed, not wanting to speak problems with another person around. You can trust Glenn, and all, but you trusted Rick like he was your brother.

“Ah I see, well I’m going to go do paperwork, and call Abe,” Rick nodded to both of you, and left to his hideout. Abraham Ford was a tall burly man with bright blue eyes, and he's also a red-head. He mostly dressed in similar military clothes to when he worked as a U.S marine. He has a woman named Sasha Williams. She's an African-american woman who mostly put her hair up.

“I’m going to play some music, and open the doors,” You told Glenn, who nodded as well. Pulling out your phone, and switched it on. When your screen opened up, it revealed texts you didn’t respond to. 

5:59  
Negan <3  
Message: You left something baby ;)

6:01  
Negan <3  
Message: Hey, did you turn your fucking phone off? Damn girl, I was doing you a favor.

6:05  
Negan <3  
Message: I’ll be there soon, don’t wait up for me ;)

Wow, these messages don’t even make you feel any better. You don’t know who the fuck that girl was, it gave him no right to treat you like shit to make you leave. Oh fucking well, shit is over.

“Hello baby, can I get a straight scotch?” the voice of what made you laugh, cry, screamed, moaned, yelled at, and whispered back too, it made you shiver, and it still gave you chills. 

You looked at the body of your ex-lover. Before heading behind the bar counter, and placed a shot glass down. Taking the scotch bottle from the wall, you poured the amber liquid, and pushed it towards him. Giving him a small smile in courtesy. Because, you are on a job, and he's a paying customer. 

“Here you **Negan baby** ,” you put more emphasis on the nickname.


	2. Who did it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is figuring out why she keeps going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Walking Dead DOES NOT BELONG TO ME  
> And next chapter will be next week, same weekday. Next Tuesday. (No promises though. And I'll be fixing the first chapter as well, so it kind of makes more sense.)

Before you met Negan, you were in University, the last professor got your ass kicked out, for lacking in “keeping your mouth shut,” and you weren’t going to put up with that. Nope. Not in a century. You planned to back your case, to only have it blow up on your face, and actually get you to shut up. The fact he could damage your grades, and the professor being a higher up staff member, he could just turn everything around. Your grades were fucking awesome, but knowing that professor, you knew shit was going to go down the drain. Anyways, you didn’t plan to tell Rick about it, because nothing really happened, but you saying, "my grades wasn't cut for the courses,” got him to forget about it, and helped you with a job. It was a good excuse, knowing him, he’d make it his problem, and it got pretty ugly when Rick gets determined on something.

When you got out of that horrid place called University, You traveled a bit. You drove a dark red cruiser motorcycle 2000, it was a fine beast before your magnificent truck. Stopping by old towns, and cliché bars by those small stores that happen to appear out of nowhere. Those were some pretty good ass memory trips by so far, not that Negan was all bad. I mean, you can go on, and on how he was shitty in the ‘feeling’ department, but he still had a heart. You knew it.

One of those motels that had a diner on one side, and a bar attached to the other side of the motel was how you met the handsome devil named Negan. Curiosity got the best of you, like a little kid wondering what the fuck they got for Christmas, and opening the present before Christmas day. This bar was called, ‘Cold Drinks & Hot Wheels,’ which was good motto for those bikers riding along the highways. Or in your case, it fitted perfectly.

The building was painted navy blue with white strips on the edges to outline the place like a picture frame. Neons lights from the late '70s were bright enough to attract attention for nomads, bikers, semi-drivers, and just a bunch of weird people coming to get a goodnight rest, or just too drink. 

When you entered the motel to see if they had extra room, there was a woman that was kind, and also very funny, she was confident on asking if you needed company tonight. What followed was wink, and she laughed at your expression of surprise, and said she was just messing around. Once you got checked in, you settled your duffel bag on the double bed, and plopped down on it.

Luckily you got a room before 8 pm, and you had an appetite for some good old fashioned burgers, and fries. By the time your stomach was full it was 9:57 pm, and you started to head for the bar. Entering the place was pretty lively, music was on, TVs were playing news, and sports. It was was the almost the same size as the diner, once you entered the bar, there was two pool tables on either side of you, and the counter of the bar was straight ahead. What littered the rest of the place were wooden tables, chairs, bar stools, and slot machine in corner of the room. You made your way towards the counter, and the bartender that looked the age of 40 or 50 asked what you would like. You settled for a mix of vodka, and Sprite. 

At first there was this one guy named Keith Johnson, who ultimately gave you good flirting lines, and also was really handsome. The fact it felt like he had good vibes, there was something in the back of your head telling you otherwise. You pushed that feeling away, not really in the mood to care. You really planned to go with this Keith guy in a room, you really were. But I guess another guy had plans. Well, Negan had other ideas. Between you, and me, being with Negan felt more right than being with anyone else.

When you were sitting at a bar talking with Keith, the bartender placed a glass cup of whiskey in front of you, and you gave him a confused face. The bartender nodded to his right, where this guy sat at the end of the bar counter on your left, he had a glass of scotch in his left hand, and his right hand was holding a cancer stick between his fingers. Looking to your left, you started to examine him. He had jet black hair, with a salty-peppery beard to match. His clothing were decent enough, a t-shirt to match the plaid long sleeve he was wearing. Dark blue jeans, and black combat boots to suit his modern look. He’s quite handsome for a guy that age trying to pick you up. You couldn’t make out his eye color, but they were dark from where you were sat. You reached out to the drink, slowly pushed the drink a bit away, and looked back at Keith.

“Sorry about that,” You say before zippering up your jacket. Keith merely nodded before ordering two shots of vodka, and two glasses of scotch. Something flicked through his eyes, but gone with a flash. Questioning him wouldn’t be such a great idea, because of not knowing what kind of outcome to expect. We both finished our glasses of whiskey, talked aimlessly about anything, from our favorite collection of alcohol, to sports, and what teams we favored. Your favorite sport would have to be y/f/s, and your team would have to be y/f/t. Keith was here on a trip with his friends, who basically ditched him to get a good night sleep, and he wasn’t really up for that yet. Both of you guys took one shot each. You completely forget about that guy at the end of the bar.

“So, you wanna get out of here?” Keith asked straight up, you looked at him, and giggled a bit as you got up from your seat. You shook your head ‘no’ before heading to the women’s washroom.

“I only had a shot, and a glass of whiskey soldier, I’m gonna use the restroom,” you winked at him, which he chuckled, and nodded. There was amusement on his face, a glint of delight in his light brown eyes, and a smile on his face. Smiling back, you walked in the bathroom, and went to the sink. You didnt tell him you had a drink beforehand, but it didnt matter. Turning the cold water on, you grabbed a couple of tissues, and wetting it to moisturize your face, and cool it down. Not many guys have interrupted your conversations to get your attention, except for now, and it was tempting to ditch Keith. Although you came here for entertainment for a night, you did have manners, and you didn’t plan on changing them for a handsome guy.

Entering back into the alcohol, and cigarette joint room, you went back on track with your plan. Where you sat not long ago was accompanied by the same guy who was trying to get your attention earlier, and it looks like him, and Keith were getting along. You smiled a little, before going to sit beside the new guy, and ordering a glass of scotch. You pushed it towards the guy with a smile, he raised one of his eyebrows.

“So, you’re really going to get me a fucking drink, and not take my fucking offering?” the nameless man asked as you sat down. You laughed at his swearing, you really didn’t mind vulgar words, and all that noise.

“Well, I really don’t know your name dude, and technically I was talking with someone else,” You winked at him after motioning towards Keith. Keith laughed out loud, and ordered each vodka shot for the three of us. It felt nice, almost like you knew these guys.

“Shit, my bad darling, my name is Negan,” he smiled, pearly white teeth on show, and if he wasn’t so goddamn good looking, maybe you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him if you left with Keith. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to get out of it. Deep down, you know you don’t want to get out. Almost like an addict’s body needing its stuff to survive, and to live in this world. Yeah, that would be a good definition of our love. We can’t live without each other. We’ll always find each other. It’s been that way since we met.

“Negan,” the name came out so perfect, you’ve never heard that name before. His eyes trailed down your body as you turned to wave down the bartender. Glancing back at Keith, who was taking a shot of vodka. You asked for another glass of whiskey, being your second cup, the tolerance you had was good enough to last maybe a few tequila shots, but you took it easy with guys around. Never knowing who can pull a fast one. You haven’t been drugged while drinking with a huge, or small crowd. Trying to keep that way was a good idea in a small area.

“Pretty fucking nice name, since you introduced yourself, my name is y/n,” Negan turned his body towards you, and raise his right hand up to offer you a handshake. His hands were quite big, not that it matters. You took it, and gave a small shake. Negan’s hand squeezed softly as you both let go.

“Please to meet you Y/n,” he nodded before turning back towards to counter. Keith stood up to sit on the other side of you. The three of us causally talked about everything, and nothing. When Keith ordered three shots of vodka each, and a glass of whiskey each. The three of you guys took the shots, and drained the whiskey. Unknowingly to you while you focused on finding the T.V, Keith poured a white powdered substance into your whiskey before you consumed it. Although you didn't notice, but a pair of eyes caught it at the last second. Hazel eyes watched you, before leaving your form, and back to the guy who fucked up real bad. The T.V was held above the wall of alcohol that was ahead of you guys. The sound was low, so finding it was kind of hard-ish with conversations flowing between the three of you, and others in the bar. The screen was lit bright, with a sport going down. Your eyes followed the game going on, it was basketball, and it got interesting when it started too look brighter, and sound was getting quieter than usual. You can't believe you were getting a tipsy already, and you definitely didn’t feel right.

You excused yourself to the bathroom again, so you pardoned yourself again, and left. Reaching one of the stalls, you walked in one, locked it, and sat down on the lid with your hands on your forehead. There was a feeling coming from the back of your head, and wrapping around your head causing you to feel dizzier than before. You got up to lift the lid to use to bathroom. After finishing using the toilet, you leaned against the sink counter. Your head hanged down, trying to grasp at the feeling enveloping you. Sounds of glass breaking, and the noise of other things breaking were heard. After that, voices of guys fighting echoed in your head, and made you go on your guard. Well, as much as you could.

“Get these two assholes out of here! They’re making a huge ass mess!” an old guys voice boomed on the other side of the restroom door, it sounded muffled in your ears. Your vision going in, and out of blurriness. Turning your head slowly towards the door, staggering to the door, you opened it to see the area where you once sat at was in a state like a tornado passed by it. The feeling of your eyes going in slow motion made you feel light as a feather but in a hurricane, and it you still felt out of place.

The two guys you were drinking with were nowhere to be found, a few people were around the chaos that happened by the looks of shock, and confusion on their faces.

“Ma’am? You don’t look so well, are you okay?” a faint woman’s voice made its way into your ears. Casting your eyes to the owner of the voice, the fairly good-looking woman gently touched your shoulder. She had dark hair, must be black or something. Crimson lipstick matched her hair tie wrapped around her hair to keep it up, and a red short-sleeve flannel covered her shoulders with dark blue jeans to match also. The touch felt like a rubber boot in water, you can feel the pressure, but not entirely.

“I—I, w-what happened here?” stuttering, but made your attempt at saying something. Looking at the wreck before you, and then looking at the lady.

“There was these two men fighting, one of them was young-looking, and the other was a grown gentleman, and quite handsome if you were to ask me, the younger guy had started it I believe” the lady’s voice was still muffled, even within the distance between the two of you. You made out every word, the dull voices seemed to leak slowly in your head. Everything seemed so slow, blurry, and it made you feel weak. You guess that’s the feeling of being drugged, huh?

“I think I-I’m going to go to my room now, this shit isn’t right,” you held your head for a bit with your right hand, and holding onto the wall with your left. What the fuck is happening? You only had five shots of vodka, and three glasses of whiskey. It would leave you a little more buzzed, not feeling weak, shit looking blurry, and you can’t fucking even hear much.

“Do you need help getting there? I think you were drugged ma’am,” the woman asked, and gave her opinion straight out. You looked at her, sensing she was right, you nodded. She smiled softly, getting closer to wrap her arm around your waist, and lifted your left arm around her shoulders. Your whole body felt like jelly, your staggering caused the lady helping you to hold her ground a couple of times.

“Shit man, I-I had never been drugged be-before, even if I handled my s-stuff right,” you stutter, not believing shit like this can happen to you. You started drinking since you turned seventeen, so your tolerance was good as fuck. Well, you had drink every now, and then, but you tried to focus on school. Now that school was out of the way back then, all you wanted to do was drink. Inside you knew you’ll get back on track.

“Let’s just get you to your room safely, and my name is Margaret by the way,” Margaret said politely, walking to the exit where others were piling out of. The owner was at the door, arms crossed, and a discontented face cast downwards. The owner was almost dressed the same as Margaret, besides the hair-tie, he had a trucker's cap on.

“Th-thank you Marge,” you mumble, tossing your view ahead of you to watch where you were going. Feeling weak wasn’t supposed to be on your agenda, but here it was, making you get help. Thankfully though. You could’ve been on that path of darkness, having dreams of remembering what happened, and whose face would’ve scarred your vision. Alas, women have each other’s back no matter what. Margaret gave a small laugh at the nickname you gave her.

When Margaret asked for your room key, you reached for your jacket pocket, and grabbed the key to hand to her. Unlocking the door, she pulls you inside to lay you on the bed. You groaned out, not liking the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“Thank yous,” you mumble, getting in the motel bed a little bit better. Margaret smiled, and said “you’re welcome young lady,” and left you in peace. She left, closing the door securely, before leaving back to the bar to get more information on what happened.

Turning your body to lay on your back, you vision was still blurry, and felt like it was in slow motion. Your limbs felt like a leaf falling from a tree, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, it echoed through your head, and everywhere you looked, the lights in your motel room had made you a little dizzier than before.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ugh, you finally got to lay down, after feeling like a piece of shit, falling for something so easily, and not noticing. Lifting your body up, you held your hand to your face, and got up to answer the door before the knocks get louder. Grasping the doorknob, you twisted it, and opened the door to reveal a blurry face. Blinking to get a better look, you rubbed your eyes with your hands, and stared at the newcomer.

“What the fuck? Were you the one who did this?” You barked as confident as you could, the drugged feeling still having its way with your system, and causing you to sound raspy in between your words. The older guy who joined you made the whole thing skeptical, like he caused the whole fucking thing.

“What the fuck? Is that all I get for saving your ass? You know, for someone rescuing a damsel in distress from a guy trying to drug said damsel, a little gratitude would be good,” Negan sighed out loud, before taking a step back from the door, and turned to walk off.

Your vision caused you to see two Negan’s walking off slowly, and no matter how the situation looked, you somehow believed his story was more accurate than Keith’s. Even though you haven’t heard Keith’s part of the story. Holding on to the door frame, you watched his back retreating.

“Wait old man!” you peeked your head out a little more, waiting for him to curve his direction back to you. When Negan stopped, and turned to look back at you, you opened your mouth to say something when your vision focused on him for a bit. He looked like shit.

“W-what happened to you exactly?” you asked, not sure what to do with the little information he presented. And he just walked away, and asking for gratitude? Nope, you needed more than that. You believe calling him ‘old man’ could’ve stopped him.

“Well, after you left to the bathroom, I fucking pointed out that the Keith guy put something in your drink, and he started stuttering, and making these excuses how you weren’t leaving with him so quick,” Negan still stood where he stopped, not making a move to come closer.

“And Keith said these most disgusting words ever after blubbering like a baby, telling me how I could be the first to do anything with you, and I told him ‘I’m a man, not a fucking pussy drugging women just to get some,’” Negan raised his left hand to his face, pinching the bridge of nose, and taking a deep breath before continuing his part of the story.

“Let me tell you, I had never fucking laid hands on a woman before, nor harm one either, but I will not stand for any other fucking guy doing such things in my presence,” His voice softened saying these last words. He seemed so gentle back then. But that’s before you tried to understand him. Things are way different than before, and it’ll be different when we lose each other for the millionth time.

“He got defensive about being called a pussy, and punched me square in the face, which was fucking alright, because that meant I could fight back without getting into much trouble,” Negan dropped his hand to his side, and went to lean against the motel wall. Crossing his arms against his chest, and staring straight at you. You just stared back at him, his words sinking into your head, and the more he explained the more it seemed real. Negan didn’t get close, or did anything to hurt you.

“I-I think I need to think about this whole thing, I-I’m sorry,” You held your hand to your head, whatever was in your system got stronger the more you stood up, and you couldn’t focus on Negan anymore.

“Don’t ever be fucking sorry, you shouldn’t be sorry for being fucking drugged sweetheart, now go sleep,” Negan muttered, before pushing himself away from the motel wall, and headed to wherever he was going, or staying. His back fading away in the distance.

“Thank you…” you whispered before closing the motel door. Twisting your hand to lock the door, you sighed softly, walking back to the motel bed sluggishly, and flopped on it.

**Author's Note:**

> More will be revealed in a week from now. Stay tuned.


End file.
